ead that letter three times to fix the
words in his mind, he had understood it at the first reading. It told
him all that needed to be known. Mary's changed look and her averted
face were now accounted for--accounted for at once and forever. No word
of explanation was necessary and none would be given or demanded. Some
men might have hesitated, and questioned whether the blow could not be
softened or averted. This was not Egbert Crawford. He had played,
boldly, wickedly and recklessly, though apparently with all care. At the
very moment when he seemed to have won all, he had lost all. At the bar
he had always been known as contesting a case unscrupulously and to the
bitter end, but as giving up gracefully and bearing a defeat without
complaint, _when_ defeated. A suspicion once aroused, and backed as was
_this_ suspicion, the wearer of the eyes he had just seen could never
again be deceived. Had he been less of a resolute man he might have
dared the other threats of the young girl, perhaps impotent. But the one
great stake lost, in the hand and fortune of Mary Crawford, there was
nothing left to play for, worth even hazarding exposure.

We will not say that in his own chamber, and while changing his slippers
for boots and his linen-wrapper to a coat more fit for the street, he
did not more than once gnash his teeth, utter an oath below his breath,
and curse the whole race of meddling women. But if he did so, he said
nothing aloud; and if his dark brows were darker than usual, no human
eye saw them. He had writing materials upon the table in that
room--_that room_, the best in the house, and into which, on the night
to follow, he had expected to be accompanied by _his bride_. He sat down
at the table but a moment, but in that moment he dashed off, with a hand
wonderfully steady under the circumstances, the following note:

SUNDAY, 1 P.M.

_Miss Harris_:--

You have meddled successfully, and whether you are right or wrong in
what you allege, I shall not be here to contest the question. If your
husband, if you ever get one, keeps half as close a watch over you,
he will probably see quite enough to satisfy him. Perhaps you will be
kind enough to communicate _this_ to Miss Mary Crawford, and thus
finish the obligations under which I rest.

Yours, humbly,

EGBERT CRAWFORD.

In a moment more this note was sealed and directed to "Miss Josephine
Harris--Care of Miss Crawford" and le